Abide With Me
by Maribor
Summary: Darllium. The Doctor and River say goodbye though River doesn't know it.


_**Darillium has so much promise because we're only given these few little nuggets and plot points. As much as I wanted to see it on telly, it is kind of wonderful to create the scene myself. I wanted to write strong River and starry eyed worshipful River because they're one in the same. River who never loses who she is even as she's losing herself in this man. River the wholly independent postulate. I love the juxtaposition of the woman who holds on to him fiercely and the woman who's willing to let him go. We get to see both facets of her characters in "The Wedding Of River Song". Overall there's a lot of religious imagery in here because I think for once I felt like focusing on the Lord in Time Lord and the God part of being a Lonely God. This is a story of worship told by his truest devotee and I hope you enjoy it.**_

* * *

 **Abide With Me**

She'd had so many occasions to see the Singing Towers. So many people had volunteered to take her, invited her, begged to share it with her but that was a date she had promised to one man and one man only.

"Promise me," He'd said. "Promise me, you'll only go with me."

She'd been gazing at him, lost in those eyes, that face.

Her sun.

Her star.

Her everything.

Her everywhere.

Her infinite universe.

Her morning star.

Her eventide.

"Yes, of course." She'd said breathlessly. "But when?"

He'd only kissed her in reply. In fact that was always his reply. He'd kiss her or touch her nose with his fingertip and smile. She didn't notice the sadness that tugged at the corners of his smile. And even if she did, sadness always hung about him, blurring his smile and his edges always making certain his happiness was just slightly out of focus.

He had arrived at her door hours ago...or days. Time hardly mattered to time travelers.

She'd just broken a glass and was in the process of picking up the shards when he'd knocked. She'd said "Come in." Absentmindedly and with slight irritation.

The door opened and she sliced her hand on a jagged piece.

She pushed up moving from all fours to her knees, swore softly and clutched at her palm as a rivulet of blood began to flow.

He stepped forward, first in shadow then with the light from beyond her door obscuring his face.

"River." he said quietly.

She looked up, never having expected to see him.

He touched her chin and she subconsciously brushed her hair away from her face. As he came better into view she saw him frown.

"I-I didn't know you were coming." She'd said.

"No, you didn't." He replied calmly. Taking her bloodied hand he helped her to her feet. He was studying her face and she didn't mind. To be held in his gaze was to feel blessed or damned and she welcomed either one.

As he studied her she let her eyes wander over him.

"Don't you look smart." He was dressed impeccably in a suit she'd never seen before and she knew everything he owned. And had he done something different with his hair?

"What were you getting up to?" He said before kissing her gently.

"Packing . I've got several expeditions lined up, back to back to back. Won't be home again for ages."

"Where?" He said quickly.

"Nowhere all that exciting. And what about you? Where's the wind blowing you?" She said with a grin.

"Here, always here." Leaning forward impulsively he kissed her on the forehead. "Come away with me, my love."

"Alright, Doctor." She breathed.

"Don't you want to know where?"

"I don't care."

He smiled again.

"I love you, River."

She started. He never said that. He'd made her feel it, know it, a hundred times, a thousand but the words rarely left his lips.

Before she could question him he spoke again.

"Come away with me."

He made her starry eyed. She knew that as well as he did. But she rarely allowed him to fully seep in, to overrule her head. Her mother had taught her that lesson long before she even knew the feisty ginger was her mother. Head first, always. She flirted, she teased but she kept her worship of him private and silent. This altar was hers and not even he was allowed to see it.

"Just let me get changed." She said forcing the wink into her voice. She hadn't planned on seeing him, hadn't even thought they'd manage a visit before she left. This was brilliant but she didn't intend on puffing up his ego further. "Won't be a moment."

She hurried off to the loo and glancing in the mirror she noticed two things.

The streak of blood that had stained her curls when she'd raised her hand to fix her hair.

And that slice on her palm that had been so enthusiastically bleeding earlier was mended. The same hand he'd taken to help her to her feet.

* * *

There'd been a silly mix up where she'd headed to the wrong TARDIS. Even she had difficulty telling them apart when they were both his. She'd wanted to get into some mischief with the two of them but he, both he's had declined. Plus it would only delay Darillium and she was so excited that he finally wanted to take her.

Darillium was unique in all the galaxy. Five towers each over 970 meters tall. Each one tuned to it's own unique pitch. Each one an acoustic resonator unparalleled on any planet. And when the men and women of the Tine Guard struck them in succession the entire world filled with endless beautiful notes. The Towers were finally singing and the air around her vibrated and she felt it coursing through her being. She was excited, thrilled and a little frightened and she clung to the Doctor like a merry child and he clung to her in return but his grip was different. She wasn't sure how but she didn't have time to think about it. Because as the towers sang the choir took up their notes

The song of Towers continued on, a sweet melodious backdrop as they dined and danced. As they retreated to their suite he changed. He'd been demonstrative all night, chivalrous, debonair, charming but once they were alone it reached a completely different level.

As far as sex was concerned, she usually left him panting, exhausted, half-heartedly pleading for a break. And she'd smile and saunter away while he lay on the bed admiring her as she left. It was at those moment that he was completely stripped of bravado. That was what she peeled off as she undressed him, as she tugged him down to the warmth of the blankets with her. She was always, always in control.

But not this night. This night it was he who initiated. He drew her close, he pressed his lips against hers in a kiss that left _her_ panting despite having a respiratory system nearly identical to his.

She had always teased him about looking do bloody young. But not now. Now he seemed every bit his age but not in a way that conveyed frailty and tiredness. No, this was wisdom, power and a masculinity he usually only hinted at. She'd gotten the impression at times that this embarrassed him. He was wedded to this body now, used to it, having grown into it but he found the human preoccupation with gender to be a bore. He could just as easily regenerate into a she the next go round. In that instance he...she...they would be no more or less the Doctor and she would love them just the same. Everything changed around the Doctor, everything decayed, except him, never him, not really.

But tonight, he seemed to relish it and the power and joy he appeared to be finding in it was heart quickeningly erotic. She swallowed hard and as he advanced upon her, she retreated feeling small and finally, finally at his mercy. She wanted this. To shirk the mantle and weight of River Song, teasing, coy, masterful River. She could think of no other way to say it except that she wanted, at least for one night to be Melody with him.

Yes it was silly. Yes it was antiquated. And still she wanted it just the same.

She wanted to take these small steps back so he could advance, so she could feel the coolness of his shadow as he stood before her, over her. This was not about being less than him but it was about basking in his grace.

That had gotten into bed before, but he had never _taken_ her to bed. They had kissed but never quite with this level of passion. They had had sex, they'd shagged, they'd even made love but she had always felt him holding something back, some little part of himself that she hated herself for trying to earn. Some mornings after, no matter how wonderful it had been she woke up weary, tired and frustrated with presenting him with burnt offerings and fatted calves and the fruits that he harvested from her body only to be told, or rather _feel_ she was told that she was not blemishless enough to possess him fully.

But not tonight. Tonight he gave her all, he gave her everything. Every entreaty she had was answered and as their bodies joined she marveled at just how _there_ he was. This is how it could have been, could always have been, should have been. Maybe they'd finally crossed that barrier. Maybe he finally trusted her now. Maybe he was finally ready. And then, he let her into his mind and she couldn't help but tear up just a little. She saw everything. Heard everything. Felt everything. She was more one with him than she had ever dared to dream possible. Every one of her senses was alive, thrumming, pulsating, vibrating. She clung to him, holding him close. He was inside her but she wanted him deeper. Her approval at the movement of his hips against her, his lips on her face and neck, all the wonders of his beautiful mind was voiced only in a whimper. What made it even better is that she could see, tell he was just as lost, caught in these burst of moments as he was. They drew nearer and nearer to the time and space of no return and she locked eyes with him unwilling to miss even a second, unwilling to leave any of this unshared.

And when they came it was together, harmoniously and perfectly together.

It took her a minute or so to realize that in the undercurrent of the crescendo of orgasm he had told her his name.

She blinked at him, her eyes widening as if to confirm that this hadn't been her imagination running riot.

He smiled and kissed not her lips but her forehead as if in benediction.

She was no longer in his mind. He'd slowly broken the connection and gently as possible. Still she knew he didn't want to discuss it and she let it lie, instead choosing to bask in the most luminescent afterglow she had ever experienced.

He too seemed in no hurry to leave. Sometimes he had to bolt. The business of the universe was usually quick to call him away in such moments as these. But as he withdrew from her body and then drew her body against his he seemed positively rooted to the spot and to her.

She hadn't noticed the chocolates until he had a piece dancing on her lips, encouraging her to open her mouth. She hadn't noticed the wine until he poured her a glass.

"My goodness, sweetie, what's gotten into you?"

He didn't answer directly.

"Are you happy, River?"

"Ecstatically so."

After that, they talked. Really talked about everything and nothing, tiptoeing around spoilers but dancing in the space between them.

Hours passed. Wonderful, indescribable hours of reflection and connection.

It occurred to her sometime after their third go round and fourth time resuming their talk as if they'd never broken off for more kissing, more touching, more caresses and cries, more thrusting and moaning, more need and want and give and take, after she begun to feel pleasantly warm and tipsy from the wine, that she had _finally_ been given her wedding night.

She hated the heaviness when it assaulted her eyelids. She didn't want to waste time with sleep. Eventually it wouldn't be put off anymore and reluctantly she succumb.

As she drifted off she felt his arms encircle her, protectively and she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt this safe.

The sound of muted sobs several hours later stirred her from her sleep. For a moment she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She was crying. The Doctor tried to understand human emotion but the mystery of tears, especially happy ones sometimes left him confused and flustered, especially when they came from his wife.

She put her hand to her face, not ready to apologize but rather to explain. She didn't apologize for her emotions around him and she had no intention of starting now.

But her face was dry.

And furthermore the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

She frowned and looked about the room finally pinpointing the location of the sound. She got out of bed quickly and grabbed his shirt pulling it loosely around her. She advanced towards the open balcony doors. The night was cool and if you listened, you could still hear the hum of the Towers as they faded in the distance. In an hour or so they would be silent.

"Doctor?" She called softly.

He was sitting in a chair off to her right, his hand shielding his eyes. What little she could see of his face looked pink, if not a bit red and damp. He made a slight choking noise after she spoke and hurried to dry his face.

The forced smile he gave her made goosepimples rise on her skin.

"Hello, dear. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

She ignored his platitudes and instead walked over and crouched before him.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face once, twice and again before he took his hands and cupped her cheeks.

"My River, my Melody...please don't ever doubt-"

"I don't. I never have and I never will. But please talk to me."

He smiled again, a smile so terribly weighty and sad she knew she'd never quite forget it.

"Spoilers." He said after a long stretch of moments and a part of her deflated. There it was, the barrier again. Perhaps she hadn't broken through like she'd thought.

Maybe...maybe if she'd...

She started to mentally retrace her steps but suddenly he spoke, his voice low, commanding and yet somehow gentle and plaintive.

"Don't, please don't do that. You didn't do anything wrong. Nothing. Not a thing, it was me, all me, always, always me. Don't try and figure out where something went wrong, don't try and redo tonight. Not tonight, not this time, not one line of this evening. Please don't rewrite it in your heart or your memory because it was perfect. It was _perfect_."

Nothing he was saying was making all that much sense to her but still she felt it and it warmed her heart. She smiled and he smiled in reply, a real smile, thankfully.

The Doctor rose, helping her to her feet as well.

His eyes were still red and she wondered just how long he'd been sitting here crying by himself.

"I'd like to go back to bed. And I'd like to fall asleep with you."

He didn't need to sleep, not like humans. He needed a rest every now and then but true sleeping was typically of his choosing. He wanted to sleep with her and she with him. And so, as husband and wife they returned to the safety of the bed and the protection of the sheets and blankets. She rested her head on his chest and he sank his fingers into her curls.

Their breathing evened out and they slept and after a bit he slipped easily into her subconscious and they met on the plains of her dreamscape as well.

Morning brought no regrets and only happy smiles and it was nearly enough to make her forget about the confusing, secretive tears of the night before. Nearly.

It all passed far, far too quickly as the best of times always did with the Doctor.

And sooner rather than later there they were again, back at her doorstep. He'd gotten her back home just as the sun was setting and he cut such a handsome figure bathed in that soft light that only comes with the dawn of a new day or the close of an old one.

"I have a present for you, well the TARDIS and I do."

He slipped something cool and oblong into her hand and she'd been about to make a ribald joke but then she looked at it.

"But...it's your screwdriver."

"It's your screwdriver. Made especially for you with all those silly settings on it that I personally have no use for. Just a bunch of noisemakers and argle-bargle if you ask me." He said with a pretend indignant sniff.

"Sweetie, is this really mine?" She asked incredulously. He was generous, yes, of course, he was the Doctor. But somethings, things that were so Gallifreyan they were nearly part of his flesh and bone he kept to and for himself.

"It's yours. Keep it with you, alright?"

"I'll never let it out of my sight."

He smiled again, his goodbye smile.

"Well, Professor Song, this is where I leave you."

She didn't understand the tears in his eyes, they were only there for a moment before he willed them away.

She kissed him, once, twice, three times not wanting to let him go.

"These trips shouldn't take all that long. Combined, maybe a bit over half a year. It would be lovely for me to turn up back home and find you right here waiting for me to come back."

"Oh River...I will always be waiting for you to come back."

She embraced him a final time and he squeezed her tightly.

"Well, off you pop. There's trouble out there somewhere that's just been waiting to do battle with you."

"Quite right." He spun around to leave her, his long strides taking him back to the TARDIS. Pausing he turned back and gave her a wink. With a flourish he extended his hand, snapped his fingers and she watched as the doors of his ship flew open.

"Show off!" She teased him and he laughed in reply.

"I do love you, River."

"I know. As I love you."

He gave her a brief nod, a lingering look and just as eventide fell he was gone. The ship wheezed to life and spirited him away from her. Like a schoolgirl she lingered in the doorway until he had fully faded from view.

Good heavens but she felt young again. She'd been excited about the upcoming trips but now she found herself anticipating what would follow them.

Everything felt new and full of hope and possibility. There was still so much to do, to see explore. So many adventures yet to be lived with her husband as his wife, his companion, his Time Lady.

There was still so much life yet to be lived and for the first time in a good long while, she welcomed it.

There'd be time to ask him about the tears later.


End file.
